


Survivor

by mysterycyclone



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterycyclone/pseuds/mysterycyclone
Summary: Sara Smith throughout the highs and lows of the third season.At the end of it, there's a tower, a warrior, and a scientist.





	Survivor

“Runner Eight.”

Sara growls, tempted to switch off the receiver on her headset out of habit and possibly a bit of spite. But she needs their cams. Especially in this dark. She ignores Sam and focuses on running, moving deeper into the woods, far from the beaten path. Her feet fall heavily on the uneven ground, following a faint formed track along a game trail. She had barely seen it from the main road, but it looks fresh enough. If she could just put on a bit more speed–

“ _Runner Eight,_ ” Sam has something close to steel in his tone now, beneath the panic and heartbreak, and it’s enough to get her attention. “Janine says to come back. There’s a massive horde coming in, and it’s close to dark. We…we can’t lose you, too.”

“Giving up already, Sam?” Sara snaps, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. “Five wouldn’t give up on you, you know.”

It’s a low blow, and she almost regrets saying it the moment it passes her lips. Almost. Her headset is silent as she follows Five’s path. Twigs and branches are freshly broken; Five had been running at her top speed, heedless of the head height branches and thick underbrush. She probably looks like she’s run through a blender. The sight of fresh blood along a low hanging branch sparks a fresh surge of fury within her.

 _None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been so easily distracted by a bloody TV show by that woman!_ That one stays unspoken. Sara knows her limits, and she knows Sam is often his own worst enemy; there’s no need to twist the knife further than she already has. Isabel had been clever, distracting him with Jamie’s gift like that and luring him out of the comms shack.

Isabel. If that woman has any sense, she’ll be far out of Sara’s reach and beyond any hope of being found by the time she gets back to Abel.

“Runner Eight,” Janine’s voice comes across tinny and full of static. Sara must be at the far reach of their broadcast range. “Return to Abel immediately. I’ll send word to the Ministry. We’ll start a proper search in the morning. We know Runner Five’s life isn’t in danger; Moonchild won’t waste a valuable resource.”

She’s right, of course. Moonchild has one of their best under her control now, and she won’t spend Five’s life frivolously. That’s an awfully cold comfort; Five’s a survivor, like her. There isn’t much she won’t do to stay alive if it comes down to it, and Sara knows there are hidden depths to her friend that haven’t been fully formed yet. A certain type of strength that had been hard to find even among the seasoned agents of her old Outfit.

She’s afraid of what Moonchild will do to bring out that those hidden qualities. What she’ll force Five to do.

And she’s not quite eager to place as much trust in the Ministry as Janine.

“Runner Eight–” Janine starts.

“I’m on my way back. Tell Jody I’ll meet her at the gates,” Sara says before switching off her headset.

Her thoughts are dark with rage and worry as she turns back towards Abel.

_I will find you, Five._

 

* * *

 

“Five. Put the gun down.” Sara keeps her voice gentle and soft. Sara has her own pistol raised, aimed at Five’s head. She can’t quite bring herself to put her finger on the trigger, not even when staring down the shaking barrel of Five’s gun. “You’re still in there, I know it. Sam was right about that much. Just fight it for a bit longer. We can help you.” _Somehow._

Five’s expression twitches, shifting away from that damned maniacal grin for a brief second, into a mask of horror and anguish, as if she’s trying to scream but can’t get her mouth to obey. The Cheshire grin doesn’t quite disappear, and for a moment Five is grinning widely, tears forming at the corner of her eyes and slowly tracking down her cheeks. Five’s gun twitches downward in rough, jerking motions, her eyes looking past Sara, going distant. Sara can hear the voice in Five’s headset grow louder, more insistent, backed by those damned tones.

_Maybe Simon’s trick worked quicker than he said–_

Five’s hands jerk back up, and she fires at Sara. Sharp, burning pain streaks down Sara’s arm, followed by a flood of warmth. Sara lets out a cry of pain, falling back and clinging to her shoulder, trying to bring her own gun up–

Five is gone. The pistol she had been holding is resting on the ground, abandoned. Sara grits her teeth, standing up and testing her arm. She’s surprised to find that it can move at all, and even more surprised when presses against the edge of the wound. It isn’t deep at all; Five had given her a good mark, but she had missed the bone and muscle, the bullet only leaving behind a sharp cut. She had done it deliberately, Sara realizes. Five can’t stop herself from obeying Moonchild, but she can work around those instructions, just barely.

All told, that’s a _damn_ good shot. Sara can’t help but feel a spark of pride beneath the worry and anger.

 

* * *

 

Five stumbles to a stop, keeping a healthy distance between herself and Sara. Sara narrows her eyes, taking in her friend’s appearance. God, but she looks terrible, and Sara feels a momentary spike of annoyance at Simon for letting her come even this far alone.

That isn’t entirely fair. He’s still a wanted man and he’s not eager to see the inside of a Ministry prison. And Abel owes him for this, much as she hates to admit it. There’s still some good to that boy, but it’s a shame it’s taken so much for him to realize that.

Unless Janine’s suspicions are right and he’s only doing it to curry favor with Abel. Sara isn’t so sure about that, personally.

Five fidgets, taking a short half step towards Sara, her eyes glassy and unsure. She must still be working the drugs out of her system. Five’s clothes are torn, ragged and filthy, covered in splotches of blood and mud. A few bandages are wrapped around her shins and hands, bright white against her skin, and she tugs at one wrapped around right arm. She won’t meet Sara’s eyes except in quick, careful glances, as if she expects to be chased off. There’s an emptiness to her now, a type of pain from a violation so deep that Sara boggles at the scope of it.

Moonchild should count herself lucky that she’s hidden away somewhere. Sara has never wanted to kill someone more.

“Alright, Five,” Sara says, forcing herself to relax and giving her friend a small smile, “About time you showed up. Dinner’s waiting, and we’ll want to get first crack at it. C’mon.”

Five hesitates again, but walks towards her, pausing every now and then to look past her at Abel. When she’s close enough, Sara reaches up to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the gates. Five starts at the contact at first, then leans into it hard, shaking. Sara wraps a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight against her side.

“Good to have you back, Five.”

 

* * *

 

“Whoa, man. Your aura’s _intense_.” Moonchild aims a disarming smile Sara’s way, carefully backing away from her, back towards the door leading out of the stairwell. The tower creaks ominously around them and Sara can feel the stairs shift beneath her feet as she walks towards Moonchild.

“You have a warrior’s aura, you know? All sharp and bold,” Moonchild’s eyes dart around the stairwell. Sara made sure to cut off her only escape. Catching her alone, away from the others, outside of cam range is no coincidence either. “You know, if I had the choice, I would have picked you instead of Five. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Five’s amazing. Brilliant, soft in all the right ways, hard in others. Perfect, except for that stubborn streak. Did you know she wouldn’t even tell me her real name? I guess it isn’t something she’s told anyone at Abel.”

Sara narrows her eyes, but says nothing. She takes another step towards Moonchild. Five had told Sara her name. A few people at Abel knew it; Sam, Janine, and herself. Not even the Major had known her full name.

“Eight, you have to get out of there. Five and Maxine have the harnesses set up, and Simon’s going to use the machine in less than ten minutes–” Sam says, speaking through gritted teeth. “You have to go! We don’t have time for this!”

Sara turns off her headset, slowly pulling her knife free of its sheath on her leg. Moonchild’s gaze grows slightly more unsure, and she starts to edge back and away from Sara, panic piercing through that fake calm.

Sara closes the distance between them the moment her headset turns off. Moonchild is many things: broken, insane, a genius unlike any the world has ever seen. But she’s a terrible fighter. And ten minutes alone with a knife is plenty of time for someone like Sara.

By the time she’s finished, there’s not enough left for the zombs.


End file.
